


burning

by freedomatsea



Series: Hell's Kitchen Universe Pieces [24]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Sex, frank's pov, mentions of human trafficking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 01:44:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6732934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomatsea/pseuds/freedomatsea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of 'penny for your thoughts verse'. Frank hadn't been able to kill him and it comes back to bite Karen in the ass. Frank's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	burning

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy this angsty, choppy mess through Frank's eyes.

Karen Page was like a breath of fresh air in a burning building. He was the burning building – burning from the inside out. She saw something _good_ in the ugly mess that the world had made of him. He didn’t get it and he knew he never would.

Frank lifted coffee cup to his lips, hesitating a few seconds before he took a sip, watching Karen as she did the same across the table from him, reading an article in the newspaper intently. Her lips moved as she mouthed out the words she read. It was an endearing quirk of hers. She had many and he loved them all. He loved _all_ of her.

“Any reason you’re staring at me?” She questioned, giving him a sideways look. “Do I have food on my face?” Karen wiped at her lips self-consciously.

Frank chuckled. “No food, just admiring you.” He told her smoothly, taking another sip of his coffee before sitting the mug down. “You gotta go in today?”

Karen shook her head, pushing her hair back behind her ears. “Ellison told me to take a break.” She frowned a little. “He said he was worried about me.”

“ _Why_?”

She shrugged, “Dunno. He was kinda cryptic about it.” Karen stared at the newspaper before sitting it aside. “I think it has something to do with _this_.” She said, leaning her elbows on the table as she pushed the newspaper towards him. “Fisk’s getting out soon. _Really_ soon.”

Frank’s heart clenched as he looked down at the headline. It was a picture of Fisk from his trial and the headline read – _Freedom for Fisk_. “Son of a bitch.” He gritted, scanning over the remainder of the article.

Karen’s expression fell. “I know.” She curled her fingers around the handle of her coffee cup, staring somewhere past him. “I mentioned to Matt that I thought Fisk would come for me, but he didn’t understand why I’d think that.”

“You gonna tell him?” Frank didn’t know _why_ that thought made him jealous. Karen had every right to tell whomever she pleased about what happened with Wesley, but he liked being the _only_ one that knew.

“No!” She shook her head intently. “I can’t. I’ll take it to my grave.”

Frank cleared his throat. “I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you.” He promised and he meant every word of it. He’d tear Fisk’s jugular out with his bare hands if he had to, just to keep Karen safe.

“You’re still healing.” Karen reminded him, tilting her head as she met his gaze.

“It’s scarred over.” Frank touched his side. It _did_ still hurt and he knew it wasn’t fully healed, but adrenaline would block out any pain, and in the worst case he wouldn’t bleed out until he got back home.

Karen fixed him with a look, narrowing her eyes. “ _Frank_.”

“If it’s between ripping my wounds and saving your life, we know which one I’ll choose.” Frank retorted, glancing down at his coffee. “Course if he finds out your with me, he might drop the target.”

“Maybe I won’t be his target at all.” Karen suggested, though she didn’t sound very certain. He didn’t like the doubt in her words – it fueled his mind to think through every potential outcome. They all looked bleak. Though everything looked bleak for him. It was just the way it was.

“ _Yeah_.” Frank huffed, finishing off the rest of his coffee. “I need more.” He moved towards the kitchen counter, pouring himself another mug of coffee before glancing back at her. “You want more?”

“Yes!” She had picked up the newspaper again. Frank could see that the article she was focused on was the one about Fisk. It made no sense to him. Karen was _terrified_ of what Fisk would do when he got out. She even woke up in the middle of the night from nightmares featuring the Kingpin himself.

Frank brought his coffee cup and the pot over to the table, topping off her cup. “You’re gonna give yourself an ulcer reading that.”

Karen waved her hand dismissively. “If the Punisher thing doesn’t work out for you, you’ll make a lovely waiter.” She teased, sidestepping the conversation about Fisk. She might _think_ she could stop him from going after Fisk if he tried anything, but she was wrong. At the first inkling that Fisk might have a target painted on Karen’s back he and his henchmen were going to be tits up in a ditch somewhere.

“I’ll work at the diner that only serves _bullshit_.” Frank remarked, giving her a wry grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Think they’ll remember I’m the one that made the mess in there?”

Karen chuckled, “They might. Though you look completely different without the bruising.”

“I’m due for some new.” He told her, sinking into the seat across from her, just to get a rise out of her. “Think there’s a record for number of times a guy can get his nose broken?”

“Oh, I’m sure.” She rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone. “Would you look at that, _no one_ has thought to start that record. There’s your calling in life.”

Frank rubbed his hand over his face. “I think it’s a damn fine goal to achieve.” He said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Just as long as the majority ain’t from Red. He’s got a nasty hook.”

Karen laughed, shaking her head. “You’re terrible.” She told him firmly, folding the newspaper over so she couldn’t see Fisk’s picture anymore. “Don’t invalidate the fact that I _hate_ when you come home broken.”

“I’m not invalidating it.” Frank retorted, frowning. “But you’ve known what I do since the moment we met.” The last thing he wanted was for her to feel like he was invalidating what she felt. He didn’t have to agree with it, but she felt it all the same.

“I hate feeling powerless.” Karen admitted, pushing her fingers through his hair. “ _This_ is a conundrum to me. I want you out there cleaning up the darkest corners of Hell’s Kitchen and I want to _help_ you. I want to be right there in the thick of things.” She shook her head. “But I don’t want either of us getting hurt.”

“You’re not getting involved in the thick of things either.” Frank’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together. The thought of her being out there – in harm’s way – made his pulse pound in his ears. “I won’t see you hurt. I can’t lose you too.”

Karen’s face fell. “I know.” She rubbed at her face, exhaling heavily. “I don’t want to put you through _that_ again. That’s the last thing I want.”

Frank reached across the table and took her hand, squeezing it tightly. “I ain’t gonna let that happen. But I gotta keeping doing what I do.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “I gottta get back out there.”

Karen nodded slowly. “I can’t trap you here, I guess?”

“No.” Frank chuckled and shook his head. “You can’t. You can _try_ , but I’m afraid you won’t win that battle.” He let go of her hand and scooted his chair around the table. “I want to keep you safe. You’re the most important thing I’ve got left.” Karen was the only thing that kept him human. Without her, he’d slip into whatever emotionless murderer he’d started to become before she pushed her way back into his life. She was the force that kept his sanity in check. _Most_ of the time.

“Damn. I was so certain I could win this battle.” Karen chuckled, lifting her hand to cup his cheek. “I just want you to come home in one piece. There’s gotta be someone out there in Hell’s Kitchen who can fix you up some Kevlar to keep you _safe_.” She sighed. “I still see your blood on my hands.”

“I’ll see what I can do about the Kevlar. There’s a guy.” Frank told her, leaning into her touch. He wanted to make all of this up to her, somehow. “How about we go out this evening.” He suggested, turning to kiss her palm. “Josie’s? We’ve managed to keep a fairly low profile there.”

“Do you want me to invite anyone else?”

Frank made a face and shook his head. “Nah. We don’t need ‘em causing trouble for us.” He gave her leg a squeeze. “I’ll take Red for a drink some other day.” He really did owe him for helping out while he was out of commission, but he still didn’t want him around.

***

The bar was _still_ the hole in the wall he remembered it to be. A lot of lowlifes crammed into a bar, drinking their cares away. But it was the only sort of bar he’d be able to go into and blend in with and for some strange reason Karen loved it. She thought it was _endearing_ – he thought she was definitely crazy. He tolerated it because of her.

“Beer?” Karen questioned, curling her fingers around his hand a little tighter as they found a little table away from most of the people.

“Fuck yes,” Frank grinned at her. “Haven’t had one in far too long.” He raked his hand through his short hair, glancing around the bar covertly. He recognized a few tattoos creeping out of shirt collars and plastered to the backs of heads like targets. But it wasn’t about them tonight, it was about Karen. “My usual please.”

Karen leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, lifting her freehand to run over his chest. “ _Easy_. Your fingers are tapping up storm.” Frank’s brows knit together and he looked down at their joined hands.

“Trigger finger.” Frank shrugged. His mind was focused on his job, but his heart was focused on her. The two rarely got along on that front. Karen was his biggest distraction and the very thing that fueled him anymore. When they’d gone their separate ways after the Colonel he’d come to the end of his initial vengeance he’d been looking for a new creed. He’d found one named Karen Page.

“I know what it is.” Karen laughed lamely. “Try to have a good time tonight.”

“You gonna get me drunk?”

“Only if you dance with me.”

Frank snorted. “That ain’t gonna happen.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “The beer’ll calm me down though.” He sighed heavily as he sank down in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest. His side still throbbed when he moved wrong, but he wasn’t about to let Karen know that.

The beer would make his mind stop racing. He was no lightweight, not by any stretch of the imagination. But a beer or two would make the edges a little fuzzy and force him to focus in on the present. In the beginning Karen had been able to calm his mind, but the weeks of bed rest and the missing weight of a gun at his side hadn’t gone over well.

He was just itching his the streets again.

At least he knew where a whole shitpile of them spent their evenings. He’d noticed a nice roof across from the bar on the way in. He’d snipe ‘em off as they came out some other night. Not tonight.

“I hope you don’t mind Bud.” Karen said as she sat down across from him, pushing a can towards him.

“And canned.” Frank chuckled, popping the top. “I don’t mind. Better than some of the shit they call beer.” He took a swig, swishing it around in his mouth.

“What was with the million-mile stare?” Karen questioned hesitantly, taking a sip of her own beer. “Or do I not wanna know?”

“You don’t wanna know.” Frank confirmed, smiling a little. “This is what happens when the only bar your man can go to is full of lowlifes.”

“Are you saying I’m dating a lowlife?” Karen teased lightly. “I’ll have you know he’s a _very_ good man.”

Frank gave her a look and laughed. “I suppose that’s in the eye of the beholder.” He nudged her foot beneath the table. “I’m glad you see me that way though. Even if I think its bullshit.”

“You think _everything_ is bullshit.” Karen retorted, rolling her eyes. “You’re lucky I don’t take offense that.”

He rubbed at his face. “Oh, I’m lucky.” _So_ , incredibly, lucky. Frank took another sip of his beer, “You think Ellison’s gonna let you back into the office soon.”

Karen frowned. “I… I don’t know. He was so cryptic about the whole thing. I guess he’ll tell me when he wants me back.” She pushed her fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ears. “I didn’t even realize I was _off_.”

“This,” Frank gestured to his side. “did put you out of sorts for awhile. Maybe he noticed you were off and got worried.”

“Maybe.” Karen’s brows knit together as she took another sip of her beer. “I think my recent articles lacked the passion that the ones _you_ were part of did.” She frowned. “Which is by no means saying I _want_ you back out there.”

“But it’s gonna happen and then you’ll get your mojo back.” Frank smiled at her. His work was mutually beneficially. He was able to sleep at night and she was able to work. “He paying you during this break? Or are we going to be hurting?”

“He’s paying me. Which means it’s gonna be short – I hope.” Karen rubbed at the crease between her brows. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom, do you want another beer?”

“I’d love another.” Frank said with a crooked grin as she stood up in front of him. “Then we can play a rousing round of pool.”

“Prepare to get beaten.” Karen said triumphantly, leaning down to kiss his lips before she headed towards the bathroom. Frank turned his attention back to finishing off the rest of his beer once she was out of his line of sight.

***

The world ceased to exist. It felt like the lights had gone off in his heart and his mind was fully in control. He remembered that feeling all too well. He’d felt it when the first shots rang out and his family fell. The carnage was the unknown.

Karen had vanished and he hadn’t been observant enough to even _guess_ where she’d gone or with _who_. He’d let himself get too comfortable and to her detriment.

He wanted to tear the world apart, limb-by-limb and Josie’s was the first target. It was a blood bath to rival what he’d done to the Irish. They’d have to piece together blown apart teeth to match them to dental records to identify half of the bodies.

No one knew a damn thing about where Karen was. They’d all seen the blonde he’d been with, but not a damned one of them saw her vanish and if they did they knew they were dead whether they talked or not.

Frank knew this day would come, he just hadn’t been expecting it to arrive so soon. There were things he still wanted to say to her – nights he still wanted to spend in her arms. He’d been selfish to keep her in his life. He should have never let her convince to him to live this life with him.

His list of enemies was a mile long, but Karen’s was a short list. Fisk and his men. The pieces of shit that had already ruined her life. She could have lived a life far away from his madness if only they hadn’t set her up.

***

Five days had passed since Karen went missing and he’d already filled up the city’s morgues with well deserving victims in his warpath to find Karen. No one knew _anything_. She’d gone missing without a trace.

Matt was all over him. He’d faced off with him twice that week and they both wore the evidence of that. Frank was fairly certain he’d shattered Matt’s calf and he didn’t give a shit because the Daredevil didn’t see reason in justifying the murders of shitbags to find Karen. That didn’t make _sense_ to him. How could Matt call himself her _friend_ and not want to tear the world apart to find her?

Red blamed _him_. Frank wasn’t an idiot. He knew that Red saw Karen’s disappearance and questionable fate as his fault because he risked her life as the Punisher. Karen had a target painted on her back even if Frank refused to see it.

When he got her back… it had _had_ to end. Karen deserved a good, normal life. Somewhere far away from everything he brought with him.

***

 **Karen Page** : Your girl’s a pretty one.  
**Karen Page** : Blondes always get a higher price.

Frank stared down at the phone – her name with someone else’s words made him see red. It was the first lead he’d gotten in _two_ weeks. Micro could help him. He just had to keep them talking.

            **Karen Page** : I would’ve got in touch sooner, but she’s stubborn.  
            **Karen Page:** She wouldn’t tell me which number belonged to Frank Castle.

Who the fuck are you?

            **Karen Page** : Someone who knows who you are.  
            **Karen Page** : I saw the two of you in Josie’s. I recognized who you were.  
**Karen Page** : The rooftop. You didn’t take the shot.

Frank’s heart clenched. The one that Matt wouldn’t let him kill – the one that caused the woman to be killed. He had Karen. He flicked the phone’s volume up louder, moving to prepare his arsenal.

            **Karen Page** : I could be convinced not to sell her.

HOW?

            **Karen Page** : Well, Artichoke, the world should know that the Punisher wasn’t put down.

You want me to out myself?

 **Karen Page** : Yes. If you value her life, you’ll do as I say.

Why do you need me to out myself?  
What do you get out of it?

Frank had to keep him texting. He was almost to Micro’s.

            **Karen Page** : That’s for me to know.

I want to see her.

It felt like _hours_ for the video to load. It was Karen. Her surroundings were dark and it gave him no clue for where she was. She looked like hell and it made him want to tear the limbs off of anyone responsible for the bruises on her cheeks and the blood caked on her lips.

            **Karen Page** : Tick tock, Castle. Your girl will be shipped off if you don’t reveal yourself.

***

Micro wasn’t able to track down the texts. They were coming from somewhere in the city but that was the extent of it. He lost track of how many lowlifes he rid the world of that night. It all became a blur of vengeance kills – in Karen’s name.

He toyed with the idea of seeking out Brett Mahoney’s help – but he knew he was too far shoved up Daredevil’s ass to help out Frank Castle. He didn’t care about Karen Page the way that Mitchell Ellison did. Her boss was the person he needed – the morally dubious connection.

The headline was dramatic to say the least, but they both agreed that it lacked the flare that Karen would give it. _THE PUNISHER RETURNS TO HELL’S KITCHEN’S BATTLEFIELD._ It was everything he needed to get the attention of Karen’s captor. Two weeks was two weeks too long. He hated to think of what they’d done to her. She was strong, but too damn stubborn for a situation like that.

The streets would run with their blood when he got through with them.

***

The text came in on the last night of the third week. An address and the skull emoji. He knew a setup when he saw one and this wreaked of being ambushed. He had no other options. Her time was growing shorter with every tick of the clock.

He’d followed through with the asshole’s request. Aaron Cassidy – there was no doubt in his mind that the man Matt had prevented him from killing was the very same shitstain holding Karen captive. The world knew that Frank Castle was alive and well and the world was no longer safe for Karen to be _his_.

The address led him to an abandoned warehouse, half burned out by fratboy arson and half ruined by squatting addicts. It stunk of marijuana and sex and it made his blood run cold to think what the latter meant for Karen.

_One batch, two batch. Penny and dime._

_One batch, two batch. Penny and dime._

_One batch, two batch. Penny and dime._

Over.

And.

Over.

And.

Over again.

It was different this time. He wasn’t fighting to settle three ghosts in his head. He was fighting to quite the screaming in his soul that sounded like Karen Page in never ending anguish. If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. He was supposed to be there for her. This time no one was supposed to die.

But he was death and everything he loved slipped through his fingers like they were a sieve.

“I made a pretty penny off that article.” Aaron remarked, a sinister grin spreading over his face as they finally came face-to-face. Karen was nowhere to be seen. The warehouse was quiet, save for the shouting in Frank’s head.

Frank grunted in response, his fingers itching to reach for his gun. He couldn’t draw and end it now, not without knowing where Karen was. For all he knew Aaron had her stowed away where he’d never find her.

“A man of few words. I can appreciate that.” Aaron rubbed his hands together. “I understand you tried to kill me.” He chuckled, “This, isn’t payback for that. The dumb whore that was causing me _so_ many troubles was taken care of and I… well, jail time just doesn’t seem to be for me.”

Frank’s jaw set hard. “Son of a bitch.”

“I’ll have you know, my mother was a _lovely_ person.” Aaron grinned, chuckling softly. “But that little piece of blonde ass you went home to… she’s more of a _bitch_.”

“Where is she?” Frank questioned, curling his fingers around his gun.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Aaron warned. “You wouldn’t kill the only person who knows where she is.”

“I did what you wanted. Front page.” Frank gritted out. “Where’s Karen?” He could kill Aaron and still find Karen. She had to be somewhere in the warehouse. But if she wasn’t… he’d never know.

“She’s a strong woman,” Aaron started musingly, “It took her _days_ to crack and tell me which number was yours. The artichoke thing is endearing. Not at all what I’d expect as a nickname for the Punisher.” He laughed. “But it’s because of the tattoo on her hip right?”

Frank drew his gun and cocked it, aiming it at Aaron’s head. “This is your last chance. Where is she?” He growled out, his finger just itching to pull the trigger. The anger roiled in his stomach. He wanted to make him _suffer_ – he didn’t want to make it quick.

_One._

_Two._

Aaron dropped to the ground screaming in agony at his shattered kneecaps.

“The way I see it, you oughta start talking.” Frank remarked, stepping towards the bloody mess of a man. “Where’s Karen?”

He gestured somewhere further into the warehouse. Frank could make out shipping containers glinting in the dirty light.

“If she’s not there I’m coming for your elbows.” He bit out, his fist clenched at his side as he stalked towards the containers. He wrenched open the first one, but it was empty. The second was the same. His anger burned hotter with each passing second that Karen wasn’t visible.

The third one was the charm.

Karen’s arms were suspended above her head and her knees just barely touched the ground beneath her. She was limp at first, but she stirred as he stepped into the container. Her eyes widened as he came into focus and for the first time since he’d lost her he felt _alive_. It was a rush of overwhelming joy as he loosened the bindings and freed her.

“I want to do it.” She mumbled against his shoulder as he took her into his arms. She felt thinner than she’d been before and cold.

Frank knew exactly what she meant. “He’s all yours.”

Karen nodded, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. “He didn’t. None of them did.” She whispered, brushing her fingers over the hair at the back of his head.

Frank swallowed thickly, holding her a little tighter. That had been his fear. Wounds he could patch, but he didn’t know how to mend the psychological wounds. He didn’t even know how to mend his own when it came to his head.

“Good.” He cradled the back of her head, turning to press a kiss to her temple. Frank pulled back and handed her his gun.

Karen wiped the tears away with the back of her hand as they streaked down her cheeks. She took the gun from him, drawing in a shaky breath as she stepped past him.

The sound of the shot reverberated off the walls.

Frank was there for her when she crumpled to the ground in front of the body.

“Take me home Frank.” She whispered as she sat the gun down beside her, her eyes transfixed on her hands. They were dirty and bruised and the skin around her wrists were raw from how she’d been hanging. Her skin was bruised all over and he wanted to kill the bastard all over again when he thought about them hurting her.

***

It wasn’t safe for him to stay at her apartment, as much as he wanted to be there for her while she recovered. The whole city knew he was still alive and Karen was at the center of it all. He hated that he had to leave her side, but it was for the best. Foggy had volunteered his services – he wasn’t a very good cook, but he’d make sure she was supplied with Chinese, Thai, and Pizza.

Mack didn’t want to leave her and he didn’t blame him. He’d do better with Karen anyways – he hated to think of what would happen to him if he didn’t come home one day. Karen would take good care of him, she already had.

***

Frank glared at his phone. Karen had texted him well over a hundred times and called him nearly as many times. He didn’t want to ignore them, but he knew he had to. It wasn’t fair to either of them to start the cycle over again. They _knew_ there was no such thing as a happy ending for them. A clean break was the right thing to do.

But Karen Page was undeterred by _right_ and _fair_.

***

Karen was the first thing he saw when he pulled up the drive to the shack. He wasn’t even surprised to see her – it had been a matter of time, honestly. She’d probably had to hogtie Foggy to get out of the apartment (which was a hilarious image to think of). She looked better, the bruising around her eyes had faded into a slightly less painful shade of purple.

“We match.” She remarked as he strode towards her.

Frank cracked a grin, dropping his cigarette and stomping it out with his heel. “We do.” He sighed. “What are you doing out here?”

Karen fixed him with a look. “Checking to see if you’re alive or not since you won’t answer your damn phone.”

“ _Karen_.”

“Don’t _Karen_ me.” She hissed out, her fists curling tightly at her sides. “You really think it’s okay to just drop me off and leave me after _that_?”

Frank shook his head. “No. I didn’t think it was okay, but it had to be that way. Your friend Brett was sniffing around your apartment after the headline hit – I couldn’t risk you getting in trouble.”

“Ellison came to see me.” Karen crossed her arms across her chest. “He told me how worried you were about me. The man he described sounds very different from the one that left me.”

Frank sighed. “You had Foggy. You weren’t alone.” He reminded her, running his fingers over his short cropped hair.

“I wanted _you_.” She bit out. “I spent three weeks strung up and _tortured_ and all I wanted was to be with you again. That was all that kept me going. I knew you’d come for me.” Karen didn’t give him a chance to respond before she threw her arms around him.

Frank sank into her touch, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, breathing her in. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, brushing his lips over her neck. His heart clenched at the knowledge that he’d hurt her when she’d needed it least.

Karen turned her head and caught his lips, kissing him with an edge of need that took his breath away. His fingers tangled in her hair as he cradled the back of her head, drawing her closer. It was wrong and yet so deliciously right.

She drew back from the kiss first, pressing her forehead against his. “It’s not goodbye until I say it is.” Karen whispered, brushing her fingers over his cheek. “I’m not leaving you.”

“As long as you’re with me, there’s a target painted on your back.”

“I don’t care.” Karen insisted, curling her fingers in the front of his shirt. “I will never find someone like you that accepts me for what I’ve done. I don’t want anyone else to know the darkest parts of me. I just want you Frank.”

Frank took a step back, raking his hand over his face. He wanted her too, he wanted to _always_ be there for her, and keep playing house – but he couldn’t. He couldn’t switch off that part of his head that fueled his need to kill. The switch had been blown out of his head when he got shot. It was stuck on. “I can’t Karen. _Fuck it_. I want that. I want a life with you, but we’ll always be waiting for the other shoe to drop. The man that could settle down and be something is already gone and dead and buried six feet down.”

“Yeah, well so’s the Karen Page that could look forward to a normal life.” Karen slammed her fists against his chest. “She’s gone too. I’m not just some paper pusher or secretary or _doormat_. I see the vermin too. I see a world of evil that needs to be blotted out.” She was trembling, the anger rolling off her skin. “This city is awful and I can’t ever get out of it. I’m stuck and if I’m going to be stuck I want to be stuck with _you_.”

***

“We are getting a _real_ mattress for this place.” Karen told him, fitting herself into the bend of his body. Frank’s hand rested easily at her breast, idly tracing circles around her nipple as they enjoyed the quiet after together.

“Whatever you want.” Frank pressed his lips against her shoulder. She’d driven a hard argument and he’d been pretty useless at resisting. He knew now, however, that he didn’t want her to go anywhere. He’d been an idiot for trying to break it off the way he had. That was wrong. After the hell she’d gone through, she deserved better than that.

“You’re always far more amenable after you’ve had sex.” Karen teased, pressing back a little closer to him. 

Frank snorted. “Can’t imagine why.”

Karen fell silent for a few long moments before she spoke again. “There’s an apartment a little outside the city. I’ll have to commute in to the paper, but it’ll be worth it.”

“ _Karen_.” Frank whispered, his hand slipping down to rest at her hip. “You don’t gotta move. That’s a good place you’ve got.”

She shook her head. “I don’t feel safe there anymore. I want to start over in a new apartment.”

“He didn’t take you from the apartment, he took you from Josie’s.”

“I know. But I’ve seen the police too often there now. They’re watching. I want to go somewhere else and avoid that. Hell, if I could I’d leave the city altogether but I can’t afford the suburbs.”

Frank went rigid behind her at the mention of the suburbs and Karen must have realized what she’d said because she was turning around in his arms to face him before he had a chance to utter a word.

“Not like that. I don’t want a suburban life for a wide variety of reasons. But I’d only move there to get away from the hell that is Hell’s Kitchen. But it’s like a virus you can’t get rid of. Hell’s Kitchen is in my blood, even if I’m not from there.” She sighed, cupping his cheek. “I just want this to work.”

“And I don’t wanna see you with bruises like this ever again. But that’s what happens around me.” Frank shook his head. “I wish this were simpler.”

“So do I.” Karen closed her eyes. “I can’t walk away from this, Frank.”

Frank kissed her forehead. “Neither can I.” There was no way in hell he could end with Karen. She was under his skin, running through his veins. She was a part of him he wouldn’t be able to shake loose.

It could burn a little bit longer. He’d make damn sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> The breaks were meant to simulate the way I think Frank comes and goes in periods like this. It was the only way I could get his voice to come out and I hope I did well!


End file.
